


Something Always Sings

by deinvati



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: M/M, Praxos, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 03:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: Prax has nothing to his name and an impossible task in front of him.  But Prax is accustomed to waiting for things to bloom.





	Something Always Sings

**Author's Note:**

> “Even in the mud and scum of things, something always, always sings.”   
> ― Ralph Waldo Emerson
> 
>  
> 
> Hello! Just something short to get back into writing things down. I may add more later because I love these two and they scream SLOW BURN like nothing I've ever seen. Until then, enjoy and thanks for reading!

Five times. No, wait, six? Amos hesitated before turning back the way he'd come, and Prax just smiled to himself. Just five, then. For now.

He'd been folding and putting away his laundry for twenty minutes while he watched Amos have a conversation with himself, and he could only roll his socks so many times. He didn't want to interrupt Amos' process though. Amos would come to him with whatever was on his mind when he was ready. If Prax was anything, he was a patient man.

Too patient, his wife would have said. Back when he'd had a wife. "You have one speed, Prax," she'd laugh as she brushed his hands out of the way to take over whatever he'd been doing.

He still didn't know what had happened to her, or his parents, or his best friend. But it wasn't like Mei. He could wait to find out what happened to them. Eventually, the news would get to him, and knowing now wouldn't change anything anyway. Before, he'd never been one to wish things were going faster than they were. Things took as much time as they took. But now, with Mei gone, he had to find ways to pass the time, or trying to push it faster would drive him insane.

There was a sharp rap on the doorframe and Prax turned to see Amos shifting his weight, his teeth gritted.

"Hey," the mechanic grunted. He shoved a small package, only slightly crumpled from his large fist, toward Prax. "Here."

Prax's eyebrows drew together as he accepted it. "What's this?" It was an envelope, sealed with some kind of tape, but it felt empty. Amos just shrugged, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jumpsuit. He was staring at Prax almost aggressively, daring him to refuse the gift he'd walked past Prax's door six times to give him.

Prax just raised an eyebrow and slid a finger under the tape.

He thought it actually  _was_ empty at first, an elaborate prank on the outsider, you're not wanted or needed here, Prax, your plight is not ours, and his heart sank. Then he remembered the creases on the envelope from Amos' hands. There, tucked in the corner, almost the same pale color as the paper, were five flat seeds.

"Oh," Prax breathed, spellbound by the tiny vessels of potential in his palm. "Where did you get these?  _How_  did you get these? Are these—?"

"From Earth," Amos interrupted gruffly. "I got a friend, says they'll grow if you know what you're doing."

Prax tore his eyes away from the package in his hands to stare at the man in front of him. "You got these for me?"

It was Amos' turn to frown. "You don't have nothin," he said, blunt and accurate. "Figured you could use something to do. While you're here anyway."

Prax tried not to let that sting and looked down at the seeds again. "Thank you," he said quietly. Amos didn't respond. Prax grinned at him. "You do know that this is highly illegal."

The corner of Amos' wide lips twitched. "Thought you might say something like that." His eyes crinkled though and he didn't take his hands out of his pockets. Prax wouldn't have let him take them back anyway. His fingers itched for the feel of soil beneath them, and he missed the smell of wet earth and growing things.

"Where should we put them?" he asked Amos, palm cupping the seeds protectively in their paper home.

Amos shrugged. "Grow lights are in the Mess. Dunno if there's any dirt on board. Didn't think of that."

"I'm sure there is. It's always part of standard supply for any ship with air cleaner plants. And," he said, moving toward Amos, "all the lights on this ship are grow lights. So we can set them up anywhere."

Amos blinked and looked at the small, unassuming light fixtures above him. "Really?"

"Mmm hmm," Prax hummed, running one fingernail gently over the edge of a seed. "Humans need sunlight too."

"Huh. Well, I guess it's up to you, Doc. Just somewhere you can strap it in."

He turned then, without a goodbye, and walked off, his muscular shoulders relaxed this time. Prax watched him. He had waited for Prax's reaction but left before Prax could thank him.

* * *

The soil was decent, and they had seed trays too, but the only pots included with the supplies were tiny— good only for the scrubbers used to supplement the onboard filters. Prax grabbed them anyway, gathering his supplies to start his project. If he could get any of the seeds to take, and if the seeds were what he thought they'd be, he'd need to find a much bigger container eventually. But for now, there was no hurry.

He laid out his equipment on the table in the galley kitchen, neat rows as he organized the tasks in his mind. He carefully shook the seeds out onto a cloth and lined them up, nudging them into a row with his finger. Each one was a genie in a bottle, the code for an entire life form in a minuscule parcel, all consummately contained and made to be transported to an ideal spot for success.

"Perfect," he murmured to them. Creation in his hands.

Then he looked at the supplies he'd gathered. A gigantic bag of soil, pots, a small support fork for stems which hadn't even begun to sprout. He frowned and shook his head, storing them again where they belonged and reminding himself to care for the seeds in front of him, not the plants they might someday be.  _Patience, Prax_ , he told himself.  _One day at a time._  He thought of Mei, then pushed that thought aside.

He carefully poured some of the filtered water over the seeds, then wrapped the wet cloth around them to absorb the moisture. And unless he wanted a pissed off mechanic in his face, he had a seedling tray to secure before he did anything else.

It took longer than he'd thought to engineer something he didn't have to worry about floating away if they stopped moving. But the small cabinet in his room wasn't being used for anything else, and the lights he'd adjusted to point at it weren't going to be missed in the other corners of the room. It would do.

Amos' heavy tread stopped outside his door and he looked up to see the man, a bowl of something in one hand, a spoon in the other. He shoveled in a mouthful as he looked at Prax's handiwork, nodded as he chewed, and left again. Prax smiled to himself.  _One day at a time._


End file.
